


The Hungry Heathen

by ifinkufreaky



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble Collection, F/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2019-12-30 15:32:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18318137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifinkufreaky/pseuds/ifinkufreaky
Summary: "Hvitserk Ragnarsson took another drag from his cigarette, pulling with so much relish that he let go for a moment, long fingers splaying as he held it up with only his pursed lips. When he plucked it from his mouth again, he held his breath for a moment before blowing the smoke out in a cloud that the breeze brought swirling back around his dirty blonde hair."Here's a home for Hvitserk homages guaranteed to make you horny and happy... otherwise known as smutty stories too short to be their own posts. Enjoy!





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt for the line "what if I said I didn't want you to stop?"

 

Hvitserk Ragnarsson took another drag from his cigarette, pulling with so much relish that he let go for a moment, long fingers splaying as he held it up with only his pursed lips. When he plucked it from his mouth again, he held his breath for a moment before blowing the smoke out in a cloud that the breeze brought swirling back around his dirty blonde hair.

I loved watching Hvitserk smoke. Any hot guy, really, but Hvitserk in particular. We were on the back porch of the apartment he shared with his brother Ubbe and a few other guys, having a cig after class.  Before we finished writing up that lab due tomorrow, that he had been putting off working on all week. We could put it off a little longer. I took a puff from my own smoke as Hvitserk leaned forward and tapped ash into the dish between us.

“Fuck, I needed that,” he announced, then collapsed back into his chair and sucked in another long pull. He was one of those guys that was always ‘about to quit,’ which only made him enjoy each one more dramatically than the last. He rolled his head against the cushion to look at me. “You want a soda or something?”

“Yeah,” I said.

Hvitserk gestured back into the apartment. “Fridge is that way.” He had the grace to grin after he said it, like the little shit that he was.

I rolled my eyes and stood, smoothing my skirt as I rose. As much as I tried to keep my pride up, I think Hvitserk was figuring out that he could pretty much ask me for anything and I’d do it. The boy was just too damn hot for his own good.

I stepped past him to head through the door, only to feel a sharp impact against my backside.

“Hey!” I exclaimed, rubbing the spot where he had just spanked me. It was just a little bit harder than I expected a joking swat to be.

But Hvitserk was just grinning. “Get me a Coke while you’re up?”

I glared at him, but gave up when I couldn’t think of a snappy comeback. Ubbe came through the doorway just as I was making to go in.

“Hey you,” Hvitserk’s brother beamed, turning on his 100-watt smile and setting his hand momentarily on my waist as I squeezed past him.

I nodded, playing it cool. Good looks ran in the family. And Ubbe could grow a better beard. With my thoughts already racing over how to interpret Hvitserk’s slap, I did not trust myself to open my mouth to Ubbe just then without something awkward or nonsensical coming out.

When I came back with two Cokes, Ubbe was just lighting up his own cigarette, shoulders hunched against the cooling breeze. He was sitting in my spot. I handed Hvitserk his drink, and was rewarded with another slap to the ass. I should have been ready for it, but I yelped anyway; he had managed to hit me in the exact same place and so it actually hurt this time. “Thanks babe!” he said loudly, then busted out laughing at himself.

I shook my head, trying to figure out how to play along. Hvitserk occasionally flirted with me, and I just about always blew it. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you the first rule of the playground? Keep your hands to yourself,” I tried.

“Guess not,” Hvitserk said, parking his cigarette on his soft lower lip so he could open the Coke can with two hands.

I shook my head and stepped past him, making for the seat on the far side of the porch.

I yelped again when Ubbe’s hand darted out, and cracked me on the other cheek.

“Hey!” I glared down at him.

Ubbe shrugged, flashing me that charming grin again. “I guess no one ever taught me, either.”

“What is this, some kind of spanking party?” I complained.

Hvitserk was quick to reply. “Ooh, that sounds fun.”

“Your turn next, then,” I fired back at him, miming a full-armed slap in his direction.

He waggled his eyebrows at me.

Ubbe slapped me again, and I jumped out of his range, recovering the smoldering stump of my cigarette from the ashtray as I quickly sat down. I gave him my meanest look before sucking the last drag off of it.

“That pencil skirt just looks too good on you,” he said by way of excuse.

I could barely suppress my smile at the compliment. I wasn’t really a girl that got noticed a lot. “Hey, do you know what’s going to be on the test next week? I didn’t write it down.” Ubbe and I were both in the same history class, which met at 8:30 in the morning. I was lucky if my sleepy ass retained a quarter of what that professor said.

Ubbe flicked the end of his smoke with his thumb while he thought about it. “Everything up through the Renaissance, I think?”

“Fuck.”

He grinned at my distress. “You need to see my notes?”

“That would help.”

“I’ll get ‘em after I finish this.”  He watched me over the flaring cherry as he took another drag.

I had to look away, not sure what I was seeing in his eyes.

Hvitserk sounded a little annoyed. “You’re still helping me with that lab first though, right?”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m here for.”

“Good,” he said. “I’m going to my buddy’s show later on, so we should probably get going on that now.”

“Sure.”

Ubbe pressed the stump of his cigarette into the ashtray to smother it, then pressed his hands to his knees and stood up. “I’ll grab my notes for you anyway. You can copy ‘em when you get the chance.” He winked, tilting his head where Hvitserk couldn’t see. “You could always hang here with me if you still need time after he heads out.”

All I could do was nod dumbly.

“Actually,” Hvitserk interjected as Ubbe shuffled past him off the porch, “you might want to check out this show with me. It’s heavy metal, I think you’d like it. They kind of sound like Inter Arma?”

I glanced at Ubbe’s back as he slipped through the doorway. “Sounds cool.” It was hard to decide which option seemed more enticing. Or which brother I had a better chance with. “So how much of this lab do we have left to do?”

Hvitserk did not appear to be in a hurry to get to work. He had lit another smoke, and was settled deep into his seat like he planned to take a nap. After another lazy puff, he looked at me from under lidded eyes. “Come here.”

He said it softly, like it was the kind of thing he said to me all the time. It wasn’t. My stomach fluttered as I rose from my seat. What was he gonna do? What did he want me to do?

Hvitserk didn’t move a muscle as he watched me approach, just reclined there with his legs spread like I was about to give him a lapdance or something. It annoyed me just enough that I went with the impulse to do something sassy.

I reached down and plucked the cigarette right out of his mouth. I brought it to my own lips and took a long, satisfying drag, staring levelly into his darkened eyes the whole time.

Hvitserk shook his head, glaring up at me from under heavy brows, and slapped my ass for like the fourth time today. I winced and tried to give him back his smoke, giggling just a little.

He wouldn’t take it. Instead, he leaned forward and fired off a few more rapid slaps to my aching buttcheek. When I tried to twist away, he grabbed my arm and held me close enough to keep going. “Stop!” I yelped.

“I’ll stop if you admit you have a crush on me,” he called, muscling me in closer so that he could keep slapping away at that same, stinging spot.

My face burned, but it was as much from arousal as embarrassment. “Fuck you,” I said through my gasping giggles. I pulled myself as far out as his grip on my wrist would let me, which only made Hvitserk rise from his chair and chase me to the corner of the porch with a smirk.

“That’s not the magic word,” he tutted, and took hold of my shoulders, trying to turn me around so he could get at my ass again.

I tried to fight him, but I still had a burning cigarette perched between my fingers, and I wasn’t about to set fire to the joint just to win a playful little grapple. He got me spun around quickly enough, pressing my thighs against the low wall that bordered the porch with one arm wrapped tight around my waist.

“You know what to say to get me to stop,” he growled into my ear, as he started in with the slaps again.

He had me so out of breath that my next words came out sultry: “What if I said I didn’t want you to stop?”

Hvitserk answered me with a throaty chuckle, a rumbling sound that made things tighten low in my belly. “Ooh, a bad girl. Then maybe you’d better stop fighting me, and come lay across my lap so I can finish this spanking the right way.”

He guided me to the chair in the back corner, where we wouldn’t be easily seen from the street. Not saying another word, he sat down, took the cigarette that I had forgotten was still between my fingers, ashed it over the side of the porch and then brought it to his lips. “Bend over,” he ordered.

He watched my face steadily as I stepped beside him, then draped myself over his lap as artfully as I could. I ended up with my belly and forearms on his knees, both hands wrapped around the arm of the chair. I looked up just in time to see him flick the cigarette out into the street, and to catch the lusty way his eyes traveled over my backside.

“This is more like it,” he said, letting his right hand follow the path his gaze had just taken. I tingled everywhere that he touched.

When he spanked me again, the impact thudded my whole body against him. A couple more hits had me practically melting into his lap.

“I want to see if your skin is getting red,” he said, voice husky. “Can I pull up your skirt?”

His hand made smooth circles on my asscheek while he waited for my answer. “Okay,” I managed to whisper past my overwhelmed arousal. I felt Hvitserk grabbing at the bottom of my skirt, then he drew it up over my hips. “Wait,” I called as another thought interrupted. “Isn’t Ubbe going to be coming back any minute?”

Hvitserk stopped with his fist balled up in the fabric about an inch away from my pussy. “Is that really a problem for you?” He leaned in until his mouth was hovering just above my ear. “How about we just let him look. I’ll take you back to my room soon enough.”


	2. giggly kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from a prompt for "giggly kisses with Hvitserk." - Warning for pot smoking

“Come on, hold still!” Hvitserk’s hands are threaded through your hair, a few of his own straw-colored locks falling between your faces. You try to purse your lips to kiss him back, but you just can’t stop giggling. Your teeth scrape together for a second and you pull your head back.

“Dude, did you ever like…. Forget how to kiss?” You bring the joint smoldering between your thumb and forefinger up to your mouth for one more hit.

Hviterk’s brow creases. “No, dude.” He scoots his body closer on the crappy old couch, trying to come in for another try.

You exhale a lungful of pot smoke right into his face, and laugh again.

Hvitserk shakes his head, and plucks the joint from your fingers so he can finish it off. He keeps his eyes locked on the big, dumb grin that you can’t seem to get unstuck from your face.

He holds his breath as long as he can, getting the most out of the final drag. When he exhales, it’s in a cool stream that dissipates over his right shoulder. “You’re so cute when you’re smiling.” He drops the final stub of the joint and wraps his hand around the back of your neck. “Come here, I’ll just have to teach you how all over again.”

You smile but you’re able to meet his lips this time, pressing soft and sweet and sending a sparkling feeling through your whole body.

Suddenly, Hvitserk spurts a laugh right into your mouth. He drops his forehead to yours as he tries to get his giggles under control. “Shit…. Now I forgot!”


	3. Party Police

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hvitserk having way too much with his cop costume at your friend's halloween house party

 

The party’s been ok so far, though it’s not living up to the wild ride that you always hope that Halloween is going to be. You’re standing in your friend’s kitchen at the back of the house she rents with a few other people, admiring her homemade mermaid costume. “I love that your makeup includes fucking _gills,_ dude,” you say, running your fingers under prosthetics she’s given herself on the sides of her neck.

“I mean, a real mermaid would have to have them, right?” she answers. She reaches out and tugs at the lacey hem of your short, calico skirt. “And look at you, going all sexy this year.”

You blush a little, looking down at the storebought “slutty” Little Bo Peep dress that you grabbed on a whim. “I just thought it looked really cute on me.”

“It does, it does,” your friend agrees.

“Mostly I had to have it for this,” you add, swinging around the purse that’s been hanging under your arm. It’s shaped like a fluffy little sheep, with a zippered pocket down its back just big enough for your phone and smokes to fit inside.

Your friend is just reaching out to pet the adorable little thing when the loud sound of a siren starts emanating from the back door. She jumps, and waves her hand frantically for you to put the joint in your hand behind your back. “The fuck--?”

The back door bangs open, and Hvitserk Ragnarsson jumps through. He’s dressed in a deep blue cop uniform, which almost looks like it could be real if it weren’t so expertly tailored to hug his slim, fit body. Beneath the brim of his officer’s hat, his eyes are a little red and puffy and laughing. “Everybody remain calm,” he announces, “the fun police is here.”

Your friend is the first to respond, rushing up and smacking him. “You scared me, Hvitty!”

“Whoa whoa whoa, assaulting an officer?” he replies with mock outrage. “I might have to write you up for that.” He hits a button on his phone that turns off the siren sound.

Suddenly nervous, you bring the joint in your hand up for one more tiny little hit. You’ve had a crush on Hvitserk since high school, though he’s never been single long enough for you to do anything about it. It’s been all safe flirting and near-misses between you too so far. But you never know, tonight could be a fresh chance. You exhale as smooth and cool as you can while Hvitserk’s eyes fall on you, and pass the joint to the girl standing to your left.

“What’s this?” Hvitserk says in his cop voice, cocking his head as he launches himself over to you. His long fingers intercept that joint before the hand-off can be completed. “You have the right,” he says with a goofy sparkle in his eye, “to remain high.” He brings it to his mouth and takes an almost rudely-long hit, staring at you all the while.

You make sure your face looks suitably impressed at his lung capacity.

He holds his breath as he returns the now-smaller joint to its proper turn in the rotation. He releases a cloud of thick white smoke just as your friend returns to her place at your side, fresh beer from the cooler in her hand. “Ma’am, I am going to have to confiscate that,” he announces, plucking the sweating bottle right from her fingers and drinking from it before she can try and take it back.

“Fuck you,” she fires back, though she’s smiling. Hvitserk might enjoy playing the asshole, but he’s got some kind of charm about him that makes it so no one ever quite gets mad at him for it. She turns to you. “Come on,” she says, linking her arm in yours, “let’s go make margaritas instead.”

You give Hvitserk a kind of longing last look as she pulls you away; his cool smirk implies that he thinks you’re just playing hard to get. Which… probably you are? But maybe that’s your problem, why you haven’t ever hooked up with him yet. Maybe you’re making yourself too hard to approach?

These are the things that you ponder as you help your friend pour salt in a plate to edge the rims of two glasses, watching Hvitserk from the corner of your eye as he moves on from the kitchen to the front of the house. His ass in those pants is just perfect; you never realized how exceptional he’d look in a uniform.

“Don’t make it too obvious,” your friend says into your ear.

You brush her off. “What? I’m not.”

“Su-ure,” she drawls.

You drink, you dance, you adjust the crooked hem of your flouncy little skirt for the thirtieth time. You try to play it cool as Hvitserk flits around the party, but he catches you looking about an hour later. You’re standing in the corner of the living room now, momentarily alone.

Hvitserk runs his hands up his uniform shirt, as if to remind you what he’s wearing. An arrogant snarl comes over his face as he gets into character, sauntering over with one hand on his plastic gun-holster. “You’re looking mighty suspicious over here, Miss Little Bo Peep,” he accuses when he reaches you.

“Oh, I’m definitely a bad element,” you coo up at him.

“Hands against the wall,” he says sternly, directing you to turn around with one swirling finger. “I’m gonna have to pat you down.”

You feel your blood rising as you comply, setting your hands high against the wall and arching your back shamelessly.

Hvitserk steps close, the fabric of his pants brushing against the bare backs of your thighs. His booted foot taps at the inside of your ankle. “Spread ‘em wider.”

Heat rushes between your opening legs as you follow his order.

“Have you been drinking tonight, Miss?” Hvitserk rasps into your ear, voice a little raw from all the shouting he’s been doing. His hands close around the tops of your shoulders, flattening the puffy little cap sleeves of your costume.

“Only a little, Officer.”

He grunts and starts his pat-down, moving his softly-slapping hands over your shoulderblades and down your flanks. His fingertips land against the sides of your tits and you feel his breath getting heavier against the side of your neck. “Am I going to find anything I don’t like in here?” he asks, groping across your belly and up between your breasts.

“I think you’ll like all of it,” you breathe back, turning to catch his eye with the most seductive face you can muster.

You almost break him with that; his jaw drops and you see him lose the character for a moment. But he’s not done with his game. He licks his lips and brings his hands down to your ass, sliding his thumbs over your cheeks and coming around like he’s checking your nonexistent pockets. “Just as I thought – contraband.”

“What do you mean, dude? I already smoked everything I’ve got!”

“Mm-mmm. Not that, miss.” He flips your skirt up high. “Care to explain these panties?”

Your eyes widen; you look around but are reassured to see that most people have left this room and no one is paying attention to your exposed rear. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Way too sexy,” Hvitserk says with finality, fingers tracing the lacey back. “I’m gonna have to confiscate.”

You have one second to brace yourself, wondering if he’s really gonna do it, before Hvitserk’s fingers close around the waistband of your panties and he whisks them toward the floor. You angle your hips to help him accomplish his goal, making sure your skirt falls back down as you do.

Hvitserk keeps one hand bracing your hip, fingers hungry, as he bends down to guide your panties off one foot, then the other. He tucks them into the breast pocket of his uniform as he stands. “I’m gonna let you off with a warning.” The hand on your hip squeezes tight, then slaps abruptly. “Next time, don’t go out looking so sexy.”

Breathless, you turn away from the wall as Hvitserk tips his hat and steps away. You’re so turned on that your legs don’t seem to work quite right as you stagger after him. “What? You can’t just stop there!”

Hvitserk turns back, one eyebrow raised. “Well if you’re looking to get arrested…” he jingles the metal handcuffs at his belt, and you both grin.


End file.
